


Finger Food

by lumpialover



Category: Food Porn - Fandom
Genre: Food Metaphors, Food Porn, Other, fried banana, lumpia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:51:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumpialover/pseuds/lumpialover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Girl eats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finger Food

Her breathing hitched when she looked down at her hands. In one fist, she held a lumpia. In the other, a fried banana.

She had dreamed of this moment for months now. She had pondered over the details of how it would happen, fantasized about the glorious pleasure and immense gratification. But here it was. Now. All so soon.

Cautiously scanning her surroundings, she felt comforted that no one was watching her. The other patrons of the restaurant were minding their own business, some chattering quietly with friends, others peacefully eating their own meals.

She was never really one for voyeurism, so she decided to stop watching others eat their food.

Her attention turned back to the food in her own hands. She gave each snack a little squeeze and relished the supple resistance they both gave, their elasticity pressing up against her palms and making her hands twitch with joy.

She slowly brought up her right fist and stared down the lumpia head on. The arousal in her chest grew as the lumpia moved closer and closer to her face, the tip growing exponentially larger as it approached her. Never before had she felt so intimidated, yet so aroused, by such a meaty snack. Her breathing grew more and more shallow as the nervous excitement from her stomach pressed up against her chest. “This is happening,” she thought, “Oh my god this is really happening.”

At last she felt the sweet tingle of the plump tip grazing her lips. She closed her eyes, drew in one deep breath, and plunged the lumpia in.

Flavors exploded inside of her mouth as she bit down on the lumpia, the oils and the juices leaking out from the meat and filling her mouth. She pulled away in time to take a breath before chewing ravenously, each bite sending a pulse of pleasure up her spine.

She tilted her head back slightly to let the sensations overwhelm her, the smells and the taste and the feelings gleefully fulfilling.

She at last swallowed she tilted her head back down, still breathing heavily from her plateau of joy. At once, she noticed a half eaten lumpia and an entire banana still clenched in her fists. Surprised by the prospect of prolonged enjoyment, an involuntary moan escaped from between her lips.

“Ooh…”

She jolted from her trance and sat up rigidly, her eyes open with fear that someone heard her. She scanned the premises with a stiff neck and was relieved to find no one seemed to have noticed her near-orgasmic experience or sexual moan.

She slumped back down in her seat and exhaled a breath of relief. At least she hadn’t been caught, yet.

 

She then looked over to her left fist, faced with an even larger challenge than the already half eaten lumpia. It was thick, wonderfully cloaked in crispy fried wrapping, and perhaps even more intimidating that her last experience.

To cope she went through the motions.

Raised it.

Stared it down.

Placed it on her lips.

And plunged.

The outer shell almost immediately came apart in her mouth as she coaxed it with her tongue, leaving a creamy banana wonderfully exposed underneath. She bit down and let the sweetness coat the insides of her mouth in a whimsical mess. Yet again she felt the pleasure roll up her spine, enhanced by the sheer volume of food that was filling her up. Her legs turned to putty, the chair became her only support, and her cheeks bulged as she chewed through masses and masses of banana. Her head languidly rolled side to side as she tried to process all of the sensations and food, her eyes shutting once more to relish the pleasure.

When at last the flavor died, she swallowed it all at once, feeling the stretch and her helpless arousal as the banana moved down to her stomach.

She looked back at her hands to see both snacks already half eaten.

“Going too fast,” she thought to herself, “I should try to enjoy this more slowly.”

To compensate for her over-excited eating pace, she decided to take a small nibble out of the lumpia in her hand.

Bad mistake.

Her mouth was mostly empty yet the flavor was just as intense, a moan reverberating in all the open space that should have been filled with food.

“OOOooohhh…”

She swallowed quickly and looked around to see a number of patrons judging her. Shit. Looked like that moan was louder that the previous one.

Not willing to explain she decided to return to her food. Yet, there was no way she could take back what happened, right? She was experiencing something exhilarating, so why should she stop for the sake of other people’s ears? She probably would never see any of these people again. So her decision was made. She would go all out.

 

With a great deal of courage she suddenly lifted both fists and began taking feeble bites out of each snack. Lumpia. Banana. Lumpia. Banana.

The pace picked up as the arousal pooled in her chest.

She shut her eyes.

She let it happen.

She let herself moan, louder, **louder,** LOUDER until she heard the sound of clattering silverware halt in her vicinity.

Louder until she was practically screaming and the entire restaurant was wide eyed.

Louder until she had to throw her head back and lean against her chair’s backrest for support, screaming and mewling and releasing the most embarrassing sounds she could.

She spread her legs wide to let the full force of the flavor rock her entire body, the tang and the savor mixing in her mouth as she thrust both in at once, her lips stretching around the girth of her food as her whines escaped freely.

She thrashed about in her seat, grinding her back into the chair hard enough to shift her bra straps out of place.

She let herself roll forward with her legs apart, the pressure that pressed up from underneath her both gratifying and exciting as she straddled the padded chair and propped her elbows on the table to shove the food deep in her mouth.

The gags.

The uncontrolled salivation.

The moans.

The rhythmic clatter of the silverware on her table as her elbows smacked against the tabletop after each thrust into her mouth.

She didn’t care if it looked like she was furiously fisting her mouth.

She didn’t care if it looked like she was having rabid coitus.

She was _living_.

 

Without warning the arousal in her chest suddenly burst and made her release a final shriek into the air, the sound ringing in empty glasses and causing nearby patrons to wince.

With one last bite of lumpia left she finished the deed, placing it in her mouth and letting the drowsy afterglow wash over her. She licked her lubricated fingers and let her hands fall to her sides.

Breathing heavily from exertion, she slumped in her chair and closed her legs.

Soon the bill came out. She paid it and walked out of the restaurant with a misaligned bra coupled with a waddling stride.

Such was the story of the girl and her finger food.


End file.
